Love Knows No Limits
by sharonarnotdon
Summary: A French law prohibits young women to marry until after a trial marriage. Christine learns to love her husband even though she had thought she loved the younger choice.
1. Default Chapter

_Love Knows No Limits_

Notes- one of my originals! Not really inspired by anything but creativity. I am very seriously considering quitting writing all together, so this may be my last work on this site unless one or more of you can come up with a legitimate reason for me not to, my life has gone downhill and I'm not sure how much more I can take.

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_~Intro~ _ There is a rule in France, applying to all young women under 25. At one point between their 18th and 25th years they will be engaged to and married to a man of age over 36 but younger than 68. If the marriage should work, good, if not, the young woman after her twenty fifth birthday may divorce him and marry whom she chooses. The male may ask the government for the young lady's hand, or else one shall be assigned to her.{Code de Francais} (This is completely fictitious)

One such woman was strongly affected by this rule some 122 years ago. She learned to love her husband even though she had thought she had loved the younger man involved, who couldn't have asked for her hand until after she had married and divorced her assigned husband. You shall now learn this group's story. Perhaps you agree with it, perhaps not.

The narrative begins in Leroux's book, when Christine suggests she and Raoul be engaged until he goes on his expedition. Raoul, suggests he not go, but Christine urges him to, leaving him all the more curious as to who this 'Erik' who's ring she obviously wore may be.

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Mlle. Christine Daae` proudly held her head high as she sang for Erik, not thinking of her engagement to Raoul. Her ring of freedom glistened as some candlelight hit it, catching his eye.

His heart welled with pride, she _must_ love him for his own sake! She wore his ring and did not shy away from him now! Why look at her posture, proud and boisterous! Her eyes met his and she blushed! _She blushed!_

Her voice fell as she observed his smile, which he obviously was unaware of. Oh what _ever_ hade she been afraid of? Look at how charming he was, sitting there smiling while he watched her. Mon dieu, he was _watching her watch him!!!_

Without thinking she matched his gaze, unaware that he had stopped smiling. Her eyes burned into his, she felt drawn to step closer. But she restrained herself. What was this power that drew her to him? Why did she blush under his gaze like a schoolgirl? Why did she tremble whenever he touched her, wether it be purposely or accidental? She had indeed never responded to Raoul's leers and caresses this way.

How could she think this!? She loved Raoul, did she not? For a month she was his betrothed, even though he thought her to be Erik's fiancée also. She had loved him since a young age, when he had kissed her and said he would never forget her. She had loved him from that moment, hadn't she?

Yes, she told herself. But not like this.

Tentatively she stepped forward, reaching for his hand. She realized as he stared at it, dumbfounded that he had always initiated touch between them. She did not draw back, knowing he would think her cowardly if she did. Slowly he reached out until his fingers merely brushed hers. 

She stepped forward again, lacing her fingers with his, drawing him from the organ bench. Trembling she tugged for him to come closer and he obeyed, disbelieving in a way. Her eyes never left his and she realized he was crying. Smiling she withdrew her hand and stepped into the warm enclosure of his arms, hugging him. He sobbed into her hair, clutching her close, but gently.

She patted his back and soothed him with her voice, telling him it was okay. Once he had gained his composure and had drawn away from her she met his gaze again. She reached up, wiping away his tears and smiling at his tortured look.

"Don't worry, Erik. I am not trying to hurt you. This is real...I am here..." Unsure of how to comfort him she bit her lip, hushing.

It was his turn to smile as she looked down, flustered. He reached out, tipping her chin to look at him. With a deep unsure breath he leaned in, pressing his lips warily to her forehead.

She did not draw back or stiffen, rather she accepted his touch and even squeezed his hand gently when he looked at her in shock. He could not find any word to say, rather he stared at her, opened mouthed and stiff shouldered.

She laughed at his reaction and led him closer, she reached up, caressing the mask, then, once she was sure he would not fight her she removed it, and transferred the touch to his ruined flesh. Seeing his joy she could not resist drawing him to her and kissing him, gently and timidly, but with growing confidence.

Overjoyed he brought her close, words never had completely satisfied him, and he much preferred letting his actions speak. Now, as far as he knew he was not a murderer, nor a madman, nor a monster. He was a human, who loved and was loved. Oh how happy his Christine made him! He drew back, reaching up, and rubbing his thumb across her cheek.

"Erik, I... I've never... I mean..." She stumbled, then looked down, as if her feet had words written on them. Then she lifted her head with pride and a smile. "I love you."

He beamed down at her and nodded, kissing her lightly again. "I love you too."

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Confusing? It's ok, it will make sense soon. I will continue!!!!!!

Until then

Your obedient writer

C.D


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter Two_

_Apollo's Lyre_

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It was the following morning that Christine received a letter in the post, something that did not often happen now that she had ordered Raoul to no longer write. She walked into the sitting room where Mama Valerius was seated, reading her own mail. Christine sat down in a chair, opened the envelope and took out the neatly written paper.

_'Mlle,_

_ As by order of law it is required for you to wed within the next six months, we have not received any petition from a gentleman so far to take you as his bride. If we do not by the first of next month we shall be forced to assign one to you._

_ It is our sincere hope that whomever gives you their name be good to you, and hopefully finish their life with you as their wife. We understand, however, that this may not happen. Please remember your right to divorce him, after your twenty-fifth birthday._

_ Sincerely_

_ M. Claude Bautois, Chief Marital Marshall'_

  


Trembling Christine set the paper down and looked at Mama, who was eyeing her with interest. "I.... I must talk to you, Mama." She said, moving to sit by her on the sofa. "You know, of course, the Marriage regulation..."

Mama nodded silently. "And... You remember what Raoul said... About, Erik?"

"That you love him and wear his ring?"

Christine fidgeted. "Yes, well, Raoul was... He was right about me loving Erik. But the ring wasn't a symbol of... Engagement until just last night..."

Her adoptive mother's eyes sparkled. "Lotte, you will marry this man of an angel?"

She sighed. "If he can have it cleared with the Marshall. We talked about it last night."

Mama clasped her hand. "Darling, you do love him, don't you?"

Christine nodded. "Yes.... I... Well I didn't realize until last night, do you think it's too soon to believe it?"

"I think you should be careful. It could be... Well something else, I can't say I do not know him. Pity, or well, that's a good example. Don't let not wanting to hurt him fool you if your heart is with Raoul."

Christine flinched. She nodded, gathering her cloak. "I'd... I need to talk with Raoul. I will be back soon."

* * *

"Christine, why in God's name do we have to come up here?"

"It is safer." She stated dully. 

Raoul snorted as he looked over the edge. "Not likely."

Christine shook her head and once he sat down she went into the story of meeting Erik and seeing him, and then of unmasking him, then of the only just ripe engagement. Raoul had visibly stiffened and listened on with anger.

"So then, you love him and not I? This has all been one big fabricated lie?"

_Oh Raoul if only you can see that the world doesn't revolve around you! I do love you but not the right way! And that is exactly why before you leave I will have you believe I do and then run off with Erik so you would not come back to me! _She thought desperately.

(The following is the exact same thing as the book up until the *)

"Oh my betrothed for a day, if I did not love you, I would not give you my lips! Take them, for the first time, and the last." *

He kissed her and she noticed how different it was from her kiss with Erik. He certainly was passionate, but she did not feel attached to him as she had Erik. She faked it though, pulling him to her. Her eyes opened to look at him but were caught behind him on Apollo's Lyre. She stiffened instantly as the golden eyes stared in disbelief at her. _If only he would tap into my thoughts!_ She pulled from Raoul and continued to stare.

"Monsieur," Erik's tone was cool. "I have come to collect my bride."

"She is not," Raoul hissed. "She will never be! I will take her from here where you can seduce her no more!"

Christine opened her mouth to defend her beloved when Erik stepped closer, clearly restraining himself. "The only reason I do not kill you now, Monsieur, is that Christine would not want it so. You best step aside and the let the girl make her _own _decisions_."_

Raoul did not budge. "I won't have it! I would sooner jump and take her with me!"

"If you even think about so much as touching her any more I'll kill you on the spot and you'll wish you never doubted me!" Erik growled. 

"Erik do not say such things!" Christine whimpered.

"And _you!_" His eyes burned with a sadness and anger the likes of which she had never seen in him. "I thought you said you loved me! I thought it was _I_ whom you pledged your hand to last night! I thought so many things Christine, when you kissed me! But apparently I was _wrong!"_

"No, Erik!" She choked out barely allowing him to finish. She ran to him, shoving Raoul aside, she clutched at Erik's hand. "You were not! You must have read my thoughts, you MUST have! Erik, please...."

He grinned coldly, pulling his hand away. "Perhaps I did." He turned to Raoul. "All right, take her with you. Take her far away but remember, her eighteenth birthday draws near, she has received her notice, Monsieur, and unless you can convince the Marshall to give you her hand before your 36'th year, which is quite a bit off, she will be _my_ bride!" 

Christine's eyes overflowed. "Erik, just let me go with you now, take me, just let me..." She stepped forward but his hand was up.

"Do not come here. Do not come to me until I have fairly won your hand, or terrible things shall happen!"

"Things!" She shrieked drawing away at his mad words.

"Terrible ones!" He stepped away and seemed to vanish.

Trembling she felt Raoul's arms envelope her. She had been mad to think of loving Erik! He was no different than all of the stories! He threatened her if she should come to him!

"Don't worry." Raoul murmured. "I _will_ convince them to give me your hand."

She suddenly felt safe in his arms, safer than she would in Erik's. How wrong she had been about her feelings! And how blind she had been about Erik! What would happen if she indeed had to marry him? He would surely kill her! Whether it be because she refused to give herself to him that night or for something foolish like not making tea!

She snuggled closer, praying Raoul would indeed win her hand. This no longer was a game. This was life, and she had to go by it's rules...

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Make a bit more sense? I hope so... My heart goes out to Phantom Aria, thank you for not quitting, I know it's tough. Just remember instead of having some overwhelming fanbase, you have a few loyal followers! Sometimes that's just better for most of us...

Anyhow I hope you like it, hit me with those reviews and if you have any good ideas review or email me. This is still dangerously close to be my final published story on this site.


	3. Chapter 3

_Three-_

_For Love and For Fear_

Quick notes- I have regained SOME meager faith in myself but I do not plan to write as much. My teaching is stressful. I try, but my students refuse to get, 'The Holly and the Ivy' correct for the Christmas Concert, and my patience is thin. Look forward to seeing me at least for a little while longer.

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Christine stared blankly at her ring, it was cold and heavy now, a constant reminder that the man who had bestowed it upon her was raving mad. She sighed, shifting in her bed and then growing stiff. Were there not two eyes looking down upon her?

She began to tremble violently as the shape emerged from the darkness, clearly Erik's famous silhouette. He gazed upon her, his eyes not mad, nor angry. He opened his mouth to speak but clearly words were lost for him.

"Please don't hurt me!" She gasped out, tears spilling across her face. "I'm sorry for what you saw Erik, it meant nothing but please... Just let me go..."

He clearly seemed shocked. "Hurt you? I mean not to hurt you! I could never, why would you think such things?"

"The roof... Terrible things would happen." She shivered, burying her face absentmindedly in the pillow to hold back her tears.

He sat down and she shot up. "Christine, I wouldn't hurt you. I didn't mean that, I meant maybe drop the curtain on you while performing, something to embarrass you, but I would never cause you physical harm, I love you."

Her heart pounded still but she visibly relaxed. "Sly minx, don't you dare ring the curtain down!" She purred playfully.

He smiled in the dark, reaching out and tracing his finger around her cheekbone. "So, is this still going to be a fight, or are you willingly going to send me to the Marshall's office?"

She froze, her eyes falling from his. Guilt pulsed through her like blood, Raoul had been so excited, she would hate to bum him out. She inhaled deeply, "Perhaps for sport, we should keep it a fight."

He was, to say the least, shocked. "Sport?"

She nodded. "Raoul seems to enjoy thins, he's in a better mood than I've seen him in months! Perhaps, dear, just so he can have fun, we should make it a fight still."

He withdrew his hand. "Is that what this all is to you, Christine? A game!!!" He stood.

"Erik," She moaned. "Raoul swore for my hand when we were children! I can't very well just rip it from him!"

"I can't believe this!" He paced for a moment. "Do you love him?"

Her eyes grew wide. "What?"

"You heard me, I said do you love him?"

Her eyes flashed and she jumped from the bed and met his gaze. "Yes! I do, and your goddamn threats can't stop me!"

He didn't seem upset violently. "So all of this, everything has been a _lie_, Christine? The sweet words, the kisses, the embraces, all of it has been one crushing lie?"

She flinched at the look he gave her, the pitiful heartbroken animal look filled to the core with anger. "I... I was confused Erik, I do love you, just... Not that way."

He inhaled these words, seemingly. "Or perhaps you still are confused."

She looked up sharply. "Pardon?"

He chuckled. "Oh it's very simply, my naive one, you think you love him because deep down you still fear me, and you feel safer at the present." He drew her closer with hardly any effort, for she was rigid with the shock of his words. He lifted a hand, smoothing it over the exposed skin of her neck, ignoring how revealing her nightgown was. "But that night, Christine, when you kissed me, you felt even safer. You were not afraid then, you let me hold you, touch you, kiss you." His lips savored the soft skin his hand had just indulged in, drawing a low gasp from her throat.

"The thing about all of this is, you cannot resist me, not when I touch you, not when I sing to you." He hummed and then moved his lips to her cheek. "Are you afraid of me now?"

She opened her mouth to speak but he swallowed her answer in his kiss. Drawing her firmly to him. She brought her own arms up, draping them around his neck carelessly. The kiss lasted for some time, but he finally drew away, looking into her dazed eyes. "It could always be like this, Christine. You have only to wait and trust me, for Raoul could never keep you that safe."

He paused at her balcony, which he was about to take his leave on. "Especially from me and my love for you." And he was gone.

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Christine wrung her hands as her mother(maneuvering in a creky wheelchair) brought the post into the sitting room. Today she should receive a letter from the Marshall, as would Raoul and Erik.

Though he had left her in a nearly drunken state she still greatly feared Erik, and was hoping the Marshall would allow her and Raoul to wed, for if she had to marry erik, she was not sure if things would be all right. She was extremely fearful that the slightest argument would drive him to madness and send him to do something terrible. She believed that he would not harm her, but wasn't sure about others.

Her mother handed her the letter, which Christine stared blankly at, afraid to open it.

"Well?" Mama Valerius inquired. "Let's take a gander."

Christine snapped out of her thoughts and slowly opened the envelope. She unfolded the paper with a deep breath and then began to read.

_'Mlle,_

_ I am pleased to inform you that someone has come forward to claim your hand. Although Raoul De Chagny, the vicomte also came forward, we were unable to give you to him. You shall wed M. Erik (last name needed but not given). We hope this is not too much of an inconvenience. _

_ Since your father is deceased you will be given away by myself, which means I will have to be notified as to when the blessed event shall occur, and if it interfere's with my own schedule, I will be forced to change it._

_ Thank you_

_ M. Claude Bautois, Chief Marital Marshall_

  


Christine sighed, setting the letter down. She looked at her eager mother. "Erik and I are to be wed." She informed her.__

Her mother clapped her hands together in glee. "Oh my Christine! I am so happy for you!" She beckoned her to come to her chair and Christine did obediently. They embraced and Mama gave her a nudge. "You go and be with him, I will be ok."

Her eyes filled with tears. "Oh but Mummy, I promised to never leave you again!"

Mama shook her head. "Go, Christine. Be young, go leave me, for I am old, go."

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__Erik opened the letter from the Marshall, his sigh content and his heart a flutter.

_M.,_

_ I am pleased to inform you that after a fair election it was chosen that Mlle. Christine Daae` become your wife. We have sent her a letter also, and wish the most sincere luck and happiness._

_ As we have informed your fiancée, you are to notify us of the impending wedding's date so that we may attend. Please feel free to address us with any concerns of yours,_

_ With fond wishes_

_ M. Claude Bautois, Chief Marital Marshall_

  


He sighed, setting it down and smiling. His bride, Christine was his bride now. He had told the foolish boy this would happen, and now he would surely receive a letter of apology from the council of Marshall's. 

He looked at the door, knowing one of the two would come to him today. Chuckling he thought, _Best to make them welcome._

Moving to the other room he straightened things up, whether there be a fight or whatever, he musn't look like a slob.__

The sound of his alarm greeted his ears and he went out to see Raoul across the lake, cursing and waving his letter in the air like a madman. Erik sent the boat across for him and waited until he got across. 

"You! You will have this withdrawn! I won't stand here and have you marry her!"

Erik laughed at him. "No, you will stand _in your own home_, and have me marry her!"

Raoul glared at him. "I am not a fool! I see what you want, you do not love her! You want only her body! You want to deprive her of the youth and innocence you were denied!"

Erik watched him as he spoke with great interest. "I'll have you know, _Monsieur le Vicomte,_ that I could live without ever knowing Christine's physical love. I love her, dammit when will you see that I am not mad but only love her?"

Raoul was flustered now and he thanked God when the splashing behind him caused him to turn and look at the shape emerging from the water. "Christine! What were you thinking! You could catch your death!"

Erik grinned, removing his cloak and moving to her, wrapping it about her shoulders. "Why my dear siren, we were just talking about you!"

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___Again, thanks to all who reviewed previously, especially Phantom Aria, I love you all._


	4. Chapter 4

_Four-_

_Confrontation_

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Christine stepped from the icy lake and sighed at Raoul's worried expression. So that was why the boat had been gone. She sloshed onto shore, ignoring how Erik admired her soaked form.

"Christine! What were you thinking! You could catch your death!"

Erik grinned, removing his cloak and moving to her, wrapping it about her shoulders. "Why my dear siren, we were just talking about you!"

Shivering she did not think twice about accepting his cape. She hugged it close and looked roughly at both of them. "What was it about me that made an interesting topic?"

Erik smiled. "Why our engagement of course!"

Christine lied. "Oh, so you have won?" She tried to keep a straight face.

Erik laughed. "Well Raoul, don't stand there looking daft, _read_ it to her."

Raoul hit his lip and cleared his throat, lifting the paper to his eye level. "Monsieur le Vicomte: Even though you seem of good intention and as in love as a child, we must decline your request for the hand of Mlle. Christine Daae`. We remind you if Mlle. Loves you as you say she will divorce her husband at 25 years old. But for the next six years she will belong in name and hand to M. Erik (no last name). If you try to destroy this relationship, we will be forced to take away your privilege to a wife in old age.

Thank you

M. Claude Buatois, Chief Marital Marshall"

Raoul refolded the paper and turned to hide several fallen tears. Erik cleared his throat. "Well my dear, we have some planning to do."

Raoul turned in a flurry. "Christine, you can change this. You can tell them he is dangerous, they surely won't make you marry him..."

Christine bit her lip, her own tears threatening to flow. "I... No, Raoul. That would be a lie..."

"Lie?" Raoul asked, his temper flaring. "How can it be a lie, dear? He has _KILLED_! He put you under a spell and _lured_ you here for how long, Christine?"

"He told me the truth and apologized." She snapped, her own eyes narrowing. 

Raoul's face lost it's color. "My God," He cursed. "You _do_ love him! And all this time you have told me that I was in your heart!"

Her face softened. "You _are_ Raoul! Was my vow on the roof not enough to make you understand that? I did not arrange for this to happen!"

"Oh but you did," Erik contradicted. "You have done exactly that. You pushed me to fight for this, Christine. And therefore by toying with both mine and the Vicomte's hearts, you have doomed yourself to six years at least as my wife." He spat his own features angry. "You must live with me and enjoy it Christine," He turned to go into his house. "I pity you."

Shocked she stared at where he had disappeared. Raoul turned to her. "Christine, you must make me a promise if we are to go on with this."

Christine took out a handkerchief and wiped away her tears, she offered it to him but he declined. "Yes?"

He inhaled deeply. "That if you do love me, you'll leave him when you can."

She smiled, taking his hand, kissing it and pressing it to her cheek. "You know I will."

He sighed and slowly withdrew his hand from her grasp. "Go, you have much to plan. I can row myself back."

She looked at him quickly. "Are you ..."

"I need to let go for the present. I have your promise and that is enough."

She sighed, looking down and nodding. Her eyes grew wide at his audacity as he tilted her chin to look at him with a finger. He gazed at her ardently, then leaned down, pressing his mouth to hers.

She at first wanted to let him take this comfort, for she felt terrible, but the constant threat of Erik loomed and she pulled away quickly. At his discouraged saddened face she whispered. "He."

Smiling he nudged her towards the door and turned, making towards the boat. Holding back tears she slipped inside with sigh and watched him go through Erik's watching device.

"May you be wary of the siren." She whispered. She shook her head and turned, fighting a gasp as she saw Erik standing in the doorway. 

"In the future, when you want to make treacherous promises do it far away from me."

Her heart fell with pity. "It can be seen so many ways Erik, and yet you see it as only one."

"Oh? And how else can it be seen?"

"I promised if I love him, I would leave _when I can_. But if I only love him as you say I do, out of fear of you, and love you more, I would never be able to leave, would I?"

He chuckled. "You thought that through rather quickly."

"I'm not as stupid as most think." She moved past him toward her chamber.

"Christine." He called, she turned to him. "I know that this is... Absurd, but try and make the best out of it. Try and make it a time of fun and discovery, not pity and misery."

She smiled lightly at first, then broadly with a giggle at his serious expression. Losing all resolve she went to him and hugged him. "I will."

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Things are easier said than done. They indeed got everything planned, and M. Buatois would attend the planned ceremony on the planned date, along with the other Marshall's. Christine was increasingly growing frightened on the impending marriage between her and Erik, he had shown distrust and a bad temper to her since she had come to stay with him.

Often she threw herself into her chamber and cried. He never came to comfort her and now she was sure he had changed his mind and realized he did not love her as he had claimed to. It was this case tonight and she gathered herself from the sheets, wiped her cheeks and walked over to the wall. She stared at it for a long moment, seeing it like a mirror, reflecting these past few weeks.

She stepped nearer, her eyes flooding once again. Erik was out cooling off from their argument, she could almost see him replacing her in the future.

"Well let him." She whimpered, and she threw her forehead to the wall, crying out at the blaring pain, but then pulling back and surging forward again, then again, then again, the wall was now spattered with her blood, and the pain in her head was so sharp it was numbing her senses. Blood trickled down her cheek and she cried as she did so again.

A knock sounded and she ignored it, throwing herself again. "Christine? Christine we have to talk," No reply, just a thump.

A thump?

He pushed open the secret door and cried out, running to her. She cried for him to let her go and he ripped off a piece of her sheets, wrapping it about her head tightly, then holding her to him and sobbing. He then stood lifting her, and carrying her into the study. He set her on his chair and went into the closet. Dizzy and in pain she passed out, not seeing him emerge with the rope to tie her up.

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AN- Yipers, small thing from the book. Hope it's making a bit more sense now, the next chapter should really help, but for now this is it. I'm moderating my students Creative Writing club, so I'm a but busier than when I was just teaching, not to mention I also have an acting job.


	5. Chapter 5

_Chapter Five_

_This Will Never Work_

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AN- Ok, I'm going to try and make things a pinch more obvious, but understand that I can't give the whole thing. I think why my stuff sucks is because I do do that. Well this will be different! Lol. TTYL, Christine Daaerre

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__Christine opened her eyes, her head ached and she was dizzy . What had happened? She made to touch her head, but something was holding down her arms. She looked down to see that they were bound, as were her feet. 

She cried out in discomfort, wriggling about on the desk she was set up on. The door opened and Erik came in, he looked angry with her, but then his eyes softened slightly. She remembered now.

"Erik...." She started, struggling against the ropes again.

"Do you know," He said, trying to keep from yelling. "How worried I've been? Have you _any_ idea of what it would do to me if you had succeeded?"

She whimpered, unable to meet his gaze. He came closer, lifting her chin. "Is this all one big game for you? Something you can just quit when it gets hard? I'm sorry Christine, but it doesn't work that way! God dammit I love you! I do Christine more than you choose to see! More than that boy and probably more than your father! I would DIE just to have you utter that you love me and be truthful! Is that what I must do? Must I be dead before you can say it?"

She was crying, huge sobs of guilt, fear and confusion. Erik undid her bindings and brought her down from the desk, he fell to the floor, clutching her to him. "Why can't you give me a chance? Am I so unkind to you so that you would kill yourself? Am I such a horrible person? I know we've fought and I'm sorry if you've been waiting for me to come into your room every time, admit you're right and then make it up to you_,_ because I won't do it unless it's true."

She finally found words. "Erik, I love you, but I love Raoul..."She pulled back, seeing him grimace at her face. "I'm just... Oh God I don't even know!"

He shook his head. "Try Christine, try to take your time. Feel your way around this, don't jump had in and expect to fall in love with me or remain in love with Raoul! You are young, and it is sure that you _will_ kill yourself if you do that!"

She shuddered and fell back into his arms. "How do you put up with me?"

He laughed. "I know that this won't work if I don't learn to. It won't work if you try and end your life whenever we argue, how can we have a good time together if you did?"

She shifted nervously, unable to look at him as she addressed the topic. "There's something bothering me that is irrelevant Erik."

"Speak on it." He whispered, inhaling her perfume.

She shivered slightly. "I... When we're married, will you expect me to.... Sleep with you?"

"You mean on our wedding night?"

"Well yes, and afterwards."

"Not if you don't want to." He whispered. "I will never force you to have relations with me, Christine, though just feeling you there in the night may be nice. You may sleep in your own room if you like."

"Oh I think, I think I can sleep _with you_ just not well, not make love until I'm sure if I ever am."

He nodded and kissed her forehead. "I understand. It is all right."

She sighed. "Thank you."

He laughed. "You are to be my wife, not my whore." he said softly. "Any wife of mine will mostly do as she wishes."

She smiled. "How badly have I damaged my good looks?"

He faked a scoff. "Don't be ridiculously conceited! Anyhow, they are so _dreadful_ now, I thought they were bad _before_, oh goodness..."

She laughed."May I see?"

He sighed and released her. "Of course, who am I to stop you?"

She paused and smiled to herself. "My fiancé."

She went into her room and to her mirror, clasping a hand over her mouth to hide her scream. He came in moments later. "Erik, I can't get married looking like this!"

He shook his head. "It's not as bad as it looks, I expect it to be gone in a few weeks, we have two months, Christine."

She sighed. "I hope so."

He smiled and turned her to face him. "You're still beautiful on the inside, and that it what counts!" He brushed a tear from her cheek. "You should rest, this has been stressful for you."

"Oh but I could never sleep with what I have on my mind, can't we talk for a little while longer?" 

He laughed at her childish plea. "I feel more like your father right now," He met her sad, hopeful gaze. "Let's make some tea."

She smiled thankfully and nodded, leading him into the kitchen and setting about making tea. He sat down and waited in the lounge, drumming his fingers thoughtfully on the side-table. She came in a few moments later with the tea tray, he moved his hand so she could set it down there. 

She poured two cups and sat with him, sipping then setting the cup and saucer down. "Erik," She ventured. "I didn't mean what I said earlier. I don't think you are any of those things."

He sighed and nodded, setting down his own cup. "I know, and you are not a parading painted diva. Nor a music thief or, God I don't even remember all the things I called you."

She sighed and nodded. "Next time we decide to argue about A flat's and B sharps though, I think we should just settle it with a C minor.

He paused with his cup to his lips, looked to her and shook his head setting it down again. "No, no, no, no, no! D major would sound much better with the particular composition."

She laughed and absentmindedly placed her hand over his on his armrest. "This will never work!"

He chuckled lightly, then stared at her white hand upon his. He freed it and slid his over hers gingerly, feeling the smooth texture of her fine milky flesh. She shivered and lifted his other hand to her lips, then ran from the room into her chamber.

* * *

  


Christine lay in bed for an hour, thinking through her fuzzy feelings. She knew she loved Raoul, but could she possibly love Erik more? After all, he treated her like an equal, rather than a prize. He talked to her like any intelligent human, not some primped poodle that only understood adjectives.

He always tended to her when she was ill or wounded, Raoul sent for some high costing doctor or nurse. Erik respected her opinion, Raoul scoffed it. Erik even believed in her dreams. He would listen to her and even told her one night,

"My dear, I believe the future of the world relies on women. One day men will read nothing but books written by ingenious writers, all women. Women will be renowned scientists and inventors, and everything men often say they can only do. Why, I even truly believe women will be more popular with writing music!"

She sighed, still confused, but more clear. At least she knew she cared for him in some minor, or perhaps deep way. Now only to see how deeply or shallowly this love ran....


	6. Chapter 6

_Six_

_No Second Thoughts_-

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An- I hope things are a bit more clear, sorry I'm not giving it away though. Anyhow this wedding is gonna have to be clipped because I'm a bit short on time this month, I'm working three jobs and I'm going to be moving down to Ohio soon, so forgive me. Once I'm moved and have a job down there things should be much easier. ^_-. I'd like to dedicate this chappie to Phantom Aria, who also knows the troubles of working and not being able to update often. 

One Upon A Forest MC qoute of the day- "Once I had a morning too, I was young once, just like you, it's evening in my life, all I have is the night, but it's still morning for you." Awwies

* * *

  


"You ready?" Meg Giry's voice flowed through Christine's right ear and out her left.

"Hmmmm?"

Meg laughed. "I guess so. You aren't afraid?"

"No," Christine replied, turning in the mirror. "Well, I was at first, but now I think I can trust him. We've worked out a lot. But still..." She bit her lip. "I miss Raoul, he hasn't talked to me at all. It's as if he blames _me_ for everything!"

Meg sighed, smoothing her best friends veil. "Amie, do not trouble yourself. Things will eventually work out."

"I hope so." There was a knock. "Yes?"

"Mlle., it is time."

"Thank you." She turned and took her bouquet from Meg. "Let's do this."

Meg smiled, lifting her train and nudging her to go. With a deep breath Christine began her journey out to the aisle, and away from her freedom.

She could see the Marshall's, their bright red uniforms obvious. Madame Giry also was there, and the Persian. Surprised, Christine blushed when he nodded to her as she passed.

Erik looked more proud than she had seen him in her life. He took her hand when she reached him and helped her up the steps, Meg going to her seat.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered..."

* * *

  


Christine stirred in her sleep, snuggling closer to the warm pillow lying next to her. Her eyes were closed and she didn't know that this pillow really was her husband, and she also didn't know the feelings she stirred in him as her warm, small form pressed to his.

When a warm draft passed over her face her eyes flickered open. They widened slightly but then went back to normal, she had agreed to sleeping in his bed, even though their marriage was not consummated. Her eyes met his, and the darkness of the room hid her bright blush as he smiled down at her.

"I'm sorry, did I wake you?"

"No, no. I sometimes wake in the night. Are you all right?" She asked, shifting slightly.

"Yes, I don't often sleep."

She grinned. "Well, you're going to start!"

He laughed. "Yes, Madame. You are not uncomfortable like this are you?"

"No, why?"

"I would gladly leave if you wanted."

She shook her head. "No, you needn't. I am fine Erik, you are no stranger, you are my husband and that gives me slight comfort."

"Oh?" He caught his breath.

"Well, I feel almost like I have someone to protect me now. I know you would have before, but it's a lot different."

"I understand your meaning." He whispered.

She yawned and sighed, reaching down and taking his hand. "Good, I wouldn't want you to think I never knew. I've always known how you love me."

He sighed and squeezed her hand. "I am glad, chèri. I am glad." And she was asleep, trusting in his arms.

* * *

  


September came and went, as did October. The winds, though always chilly in Paris, or France for that matter were now sufficiently cold enough to keep most people inside, but Christine had always dearly loved the winter, and while Erik much preferred staying inside she was usually out, enjoying her youth, as he put it.

On one particular evening after the snows had set in he noticed that her hat was still home, but she was not. He remembered her having left several hours before, and he was extremely worried for her safety. He dressed for the weather and went out to search for her.

It was a half hour later that he found her, just as he presumed she would be. She lay in the snow, unconscious. How could no one have spotted her? Quickly he scooped her up and ran home, despite his load. He removed the soaked clothing, quickly changing her without a thought and placing her in bed. He lit a fire and went to make tea.

Christine awoke several minutes after he left, her first thought that she was home. The second that her head throbbed, her body ached and felt burned, and she was in her nightgown.

She shot up to a sitting position. Erik must have come for her, that was unmistakable. But had she changed herself, or had he done it?

She turned all the more red at the thought that he had seen her body, and she lay back. Her hair was damp, so she couldn't possibly have done it and blacked out in such a period of time. 

Erik came in with a tray, and he gasped seeing her awake. "My God, Christine! I was worried sick I'd thought..." He trailed off, shaking his head and setting the tray down. She watched him intently, trying to find some sign that he had seen her. He looked at her inquisitive look and grinned. "I imagine you are wondering what happened?"

She nodded, not wanting to speak. He laughed, handing her ac up of the tea. "I found you, I brought you home. I got you out of those sopping wet clothes, put you into the bed, with an extra blanket, then lit the fire and went and made tea. Satisfied?"

Her blush was extremely obvious and she looked down into her tea. He watched her flush, redden and look away shyly, and then smiled at her modesty. "Don't worry, the frostbite didn't look too bad. I got to you just in time."

She looked up quickly and realized his joke. She laughed lightly, drinking the rest of her tea and lying back, closing her eyes. She opened them and looked at him when his hand rested on hers.

"Are you going to be ok if I go get some work done?"

She nodded. "I'll be fine, Erik."

He kissed her cold hand and added as he left. "Get under the covers before your nice warm skin becomes cold like mine."

She giggled and buried herself in the many layers of warmth. "But it isn't, Erik. Not to me."

He sighed as he moved away from the closed door, things were beginning to look up.

* * *

How is it so far? Hit me with those reviews, they bring the story to life. If you have any ideas, review, or if you don't want more people to know email me at christinedaaerre@operamail.com or IM me at chrisdaae2003 


	7. Chapter 7

_7_

_No Marriage Perfect– (One year later)_

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"Christine, you know how I do not like you staying out that late, especially after what happened."

"Erik, that was almost a year ago, I'm fine!." She shook her head, putting her coat on the rack.

"Oh I'm sure! As if sick men aren't out _looking_ for unsuspecting 19 year old women!"

"Dammit Erik, I'll do as I please!"

"You won't, not when it puts you at some risk of something!"

"Life is nothing without the risks we take."

"Life is hell when those risks destroy us."

She stared at him for a moment. "You're my husband, not my father."

"I'm the damn closest thing you have to a father." He fidgeted slightly. "I'll never be your husband in more than name or legality."

She felt an icy rush of insult flow over her. "I didn't ask you to marry me."

His head shot up, his eyes blazing, his features full of anger. "Would you have preferred to marry a stranger, Christine? Some man you never knew who _would_ have forced you to sleep with him?"

Now the icy feeling was of guilt. "I didn't stop you."

"You asked me not to."

"But I never stopped you. You could have not respected my wishes, what would I have done? Struggle? You are far stronger than me."

Erik glared. "Is that what you want, Christine? For me to force myself on you?"

She returned the glare. "I said you _could have._ There's no sense in it now."

He looked at her, then to her surprise laughed. "No, not now that I do not desire you. Not now that after sleeping in the same bed for a year I know every curve of your body. Not now that I love you too much to expect that from you."

She stared at him for a moment. "You're damn rotten Erik," she turned on her heel. "Damn rotten." And for the first time in a year, she ran into the Louis Philippe Room.

* * *

  


Erik watched the door slam and sighed, pressing his palm to his forehead in exasperation. He shrugged it off and went to the decanter nearby, pouring himself a glass of whisky. Truthfully, the liquor was only there for when old friends like Nadir came by, he usually avoided spirits, but tonight was a definite exception.

He sat near the fire, sipping the harsh drink. His mind reeled to the argument he had just had with his wife. He flinched at how cold her words before they had departed had been. She was right, he was damn rotten. He tried to control her as if she were some devoted puppy.

But Christine was a free spirit, he had seen that more than ever in this past year. She preferred to do all the cooking, cleaning and whatnot. She read with his company but never asked what things were or how to pronounce words. She tended to sow in the parlor when he was busy doing something else. 

Biting back another gulp of the whisky he shook his head. What he had said about being married in name only was very true. They hardly spent time together, they hardly talked like they used to, and the only time they ever touched was unconsciously in sleep. 

He cringed thinking of what the next six years would be like. She would probably grow to hate him more and divorce him the moment she got the chance. She would marry Raoul and look back on these seven years with regret and bitterness, if she even looked back at all. He finished his drink and slammed the glass onto the table, where it cracked, then shattered. He never heard the sound or felt the glass tear into his hand, he only thought of her in the other room, pouting over him and this marriage she had been forced into. He didn't hear her door open.

* * *

  


Christine curiously stepped into the hall, making her way down to the parlor. She entered and gasped as she saw her husband sitting, his eyes fixed on the fire, his fingers clutching shards of glass, cutting them even worse. She ran to him, forcing his hand open and letting the glass fall. She tore her plain dress she wore for chores, wrapping it around his bleeding hand. His eyes remained on the fire.

"Erik you're a fool! You'll lose your fingers that way!" He finally blinked and then looked at his hand, squinting at the sudden pain. He saw the blood on the carpeting and on her hands and dress.

"Oh God, Christine I am so sorry." He whispered, collapsing to his knees and fumbling to carefully pick up the glass. She knelt next to him, touching his shoulder so he would look at her, then as he began to hysterically weep she pulled him away from the harmful glass into her arms. He wept into her chest for some time before he pulled away and stood. "I... I shouldn't have...."

She shook her head and stood. "Is that not what we pledged in front of God? _To love and to comfort from this day forward?"_

He looked at her. "But you, you don't... You could never...."

She laughed. "Oh Erik, just because I'm not in love with you doesn't mean I do not love you in some way!"

He turned from her. "God means for you to make the vow in love."

She shook her head. "God means for us to love our neighbors."

The blaring pain of his hand was nothing compared to what was happening in her heart at this moment. "Christine I don't know how..." He stopped, knowing his truthful words would offend or anger her.

"What?"

He shook his head. "No, it means nothing."

She pressed her hand to his shoulder. "To me it does."

He turned back to her, his face now covered with tears, his mask glistening. "I don't know how I'll live if I do not earn your love."

She smiled tenderly, then reached up and touched his face. "But don't you see? You earn it more and more every day."

"But you love Raoul."

She watched him, saw his pain and decided the pluses outweighed the minuses. She slowly slipped her hand up under his mask, tossing it away, she then nervously pulled him closer to her, standing on her tiptoe's and pressing her lips to his, exploring this feeling for him.

He wrapped her in the heat of his arms, making sure there was no space between the two of them. She sighed against his lips and he hesitantly deepened the kiss, almost in shock as she accepted this gesture. Could this be real? Was he dreaming? No, he felt the biting pain of his marred fingers, more alerting than if he were to pinch himself.

She slowly drew back, gazing up at him. Her eyes were glazed, and he could not tell if she were pleased or disappointed. He reached out touching her cheek and she smiled, turning her head to receive the caress. Amazed he explored every curve of her face, slid his fingers across her lips and nose, she sighed and reached up, pressing her hand over his.

"Christine?" He whispered, she smiled softly and placed her head against his lean with muscle chest, hearing his heart thud, feeling his breath come almost painfully. She went limp against him and he quickly wrapped his arms around her to add balance and support, or surely they would both hit the floor. He was curious as to why she chose to make herself so vulnerable to him in this moment, or why at all. But he said nothing, his earlier question forgotten.

They held each other for some time, acknowledging each other's forgiveness.

* * *

  


Christine hummed softly as she threw the bits of glass into the trash. Erik had gone to bathe and get rid of some of the tension, and she had decided to erase her own with work. Housework had always taken her mind off of her trouble's, and she expected this time would be no different.

She thought of her kiss with him, a dizzying feeling began to fill her as she did. She recalled the warm pressure of his mouth, and the nearly crushing force of his arms. He was so strong in so many ways and she was helpless to resist him. The past year she had tried to be reticent but the way he always looked at her, the way he spoke to her, as if she was a queen, made her want badly to just give in.

But every time she thought she may give a confession of love she thought of Raoul. She could just see him, sitting in a chair by the mantle, watching the minutes on the clock tick by, counting down to her Twenty Fifth birthday. He would then stand and come rushing over and see her in Erik's arms, possibly happy, possibly with children, or at the very least pregnant. She thought of his expression, of sorry and disbelief, then she thought of how well she knew him, and how he would do something drastic at the sight.

Yes, that was the only reason she stayed reticent. She didn't want to hurt Raoul, but the more she protected Raoul, the more hurt Erik became. Sometimes she thought he would hypnotize the words from her, but she knew he wanted to hear them from her, not her subconscious. He wanted her to come wholeheartedly to him. He wanted her to have no fear of the impending consequences, and that was what she wanted too. She wanted to be happy and carefree when she told him, like most giddy teenagers were when they found love. But she was no ordinary giddy teen, and soon she would not be a teen.

_My twentieth birthday_. She thought. _No matter how I feel, that's when I'll tell him. That's when I'll be his and only his. _She sighed, wiping her wet hands on her apron, gazing dreamily into the kitchen hearth that was lit for dinner. She set the food and went to check on him, as she always did when he bathed, for he tended to fall asleep.

She went and knocked on the door. "Erik, are you all right?"

She heard him sigh. "Yes Christine, I am fine."

She sighed and nodded, moving from the door and going to light the fire in their room so he would be warm when he went in after his bath, as he always did to fix himself up for dinner. She added a couple of logs, stirred it and watched as the flames grew. She sighed moving out and going to check on dinner.

* * *

  


Erik stepped from the bathroom shortly after, dressed in his usual attire. He went into the bedroom, not surprised that she had made a fire for him, that was Christine for you, always thinking of others. He went, putting his mask on, then combing back his dark hair. He sighed and turned as she entered with an evening dress, and closed the door. She set the dress down and looked at him.

"Erik, I am sorry for everything that I said. I just hate it when you worry too much."

He shook his head and smiled lightly. "I am sorry too. But I can't help but worry, what would I do if something happened to you?"

She sighed and shrugged. "Let's not think like that. Could you help me with these buttons?"

He nodded and she turned, allowing him to unbutton the dress. When he finished she moved to the bed, where she had set the other one. The bed, she had convinced him to buy for them to be able to sleep in together, just a week before their wedding. She carelessly let the work dress fall, not heeding his eyes as her bare back was exposed. She stepped from it, quickly getting into the other. He shivered as he repressed his desire.

She buttoned it on her own and shuffled from the room, going to set the table and then get dinner settled, he sighed, moving from the room to the Library Music Room.

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Mwa ha ha ha ha! Hope you likie, sorry I haven't updated in forever, I had some grinches get a couple stories kicked off.


	8. Chapter 8

_Whose Birthday Is It, Anyway?_

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Christine finished getting breakfast ready, her eyes scanning over the dishes, looking for perfection or the closest to it. She silently thanked Papa for having showed her how to cook, and Mama Valerius, now passed on, for having helped her cultivate the skill, even in her old age. Christine had gotten up very early, been careful not to wake Erik, and began to prepare this morning's breakfast. It was, after all an important day. Today, she had resolved to tell him her feelings, her twentieth birthday.

She smiled at the irony, she felt as if it were Erik's birthday, for she had put so much work into this breakfast to make it perfect for him. She shook her head, moving to go change. It had been a whole month since she had decided she loved him enough to tell him, and she had worked hard to restore their nearly shattered relationship. Erik, of course, had made an effort too, and now things were nearly smooth. If they argued, they tried to calmly resolve it. If something went missing they tried not to argue, rather they looked for it in harmony, and Erik now instead of setting a curfew went out with her.

As she finished changing and went out into the hall, she heard him stir and groan, so she quickly ran down the hall to finish her work with the food, hurrying to set it out. She finished, and heard his feet patter the carpeting. She smiled as he entered and his eyes widened. He looked incredulously at her. "Christine?"

She motioned for him to sit and he obeyed, still in shock. She sat across from him, serving the food, silent as a mouse. He removed his mask to make eating easier, and she didn't even notice, humming as she waited patiently for him to burst.

He did so after a short amount of time. "Christine, what is the meaning of all of this?"

"Whatever do you mean?"

"Don't play dumb, you are treating me overly special, whose birthday is it?"

She watched him for a moment, he saw a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes, then she stood, guiding him to the Library Music Room. She sat him at the piano and nodded at the keys. "Play for me."

He smiled and obeyed, his fingers gliding effortlessly over the ivory and ebony keys, a glorious shower of melody flowed from the piano through her veins and retreated from her throat as she sang the words that went with this piece. Soon he finished and instead of bidding him to continue she sat next to him, resting her head on his shoulder.

Though now they often shared physical comfort with each other, this sudden gesture was slightly surprising for him. He slowly slid his arms around her waist as they sat silently and finally she spoke, but words he had never thought he would hear her say.

"I love you, Erik."

His breath caught in his throat and he looked at his wife. Could this be real? Was this really happening? Was he dreaming? He tightened his grip. "I pray god if I am dreaming, may I rest forever in this fantasy."

She laughed softly. "You are not dreaming, my Erik. I am here, I am real." She kissed his unmasked cheek. "I love you."

He whimpered with agonizing love, clutching her more closely and breathing in the scent of her hair. He muttered on her neck, though she couldn't understand it she smiled gratefully, leaning her head back to rest on his chest. He kissed her forehead and watched with a pounding heart as she opened her eyes to gaze at him. "You really mean it, don't you Christine?"

She sighed and smiled with a curt nod. "Of course I mean it, Erik."

Again, he kissed her forehead and drew in a sharp breath as she moved and turned to face him. She studied his expression with childlike curiosity for a moment, then leaned in, kissing him. He savored her kiss, pulling her body to his and sighing loudly as it ended. He smiled at her soft and dazed expression.

"Come Christine. There is something you should see."

Curious she followed him to the foyer. He courteously put on her cloak and hat then his own and led her through the many passages to the roof of the opera. He took her arm in the crook of his elbow, holding her close in fear that she would slip, for it was winter in Paris, and ice lurked beneath the thin layer of snow.

She gasped as she looked out over Paris, the sunlight still slightly dim, as the morn was young. He helped her along just slightly, they did not go to the edge as they would have preferred for safety precautions. They watched the sun filter over the snow capped steeples and roofs until both were tired of the view.

He helped her off the roof and they went home, hanging their damp outside things and going to warm up by the fire that still burnt in the Library Music Room. "Thank you Erik," she said softly, he looked at her. "For my most wonderful birthday yet."

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Ahhh but mon amies, the tale does not end with her love! I shall extend the plot slightly! Mwa ha ha ha ha! Read, review and wait!


	9. Chapter 9

_Raoul's Return_

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And so Erik and Christine were finally happy. Their second anniversary fast approached, but little did they know, that something else did too.

Christine was in the bookstore, buying two volumes her husband had requested. She was reading silently, unaware that a pair of eyes watched her intently, curious as to what she was doing. She smiled softly, took up the books and went to pay for them. She smiled more brightly as the clerk addressed her as Madame, then left to the awaiting carriage, where a white gloved hand pulled her in.

Raoul de Chagny spat silently as he emerged from behind the pillar he had stood in the shadows of. The monster had brainwashed her, she thought she was happy. Christine could never be happy as long as she was not with Raoul, though. This he knew.

_She made a promise!_

He wasn't sure as to how he would go about it, but he would get her away where there was no law saying she must marry someone she had no feelings for. Some other country where people were free to marry whomever they wished.

_Christine Daa_é _would be his bride!_

Let those words be marked! No mistakes made he would get her from the monster, help her to see right, and then take her where they would marry. Poor Christine, it must be terrible for her, having to share that demon's bed, run his household, if you could even call it that. Poor Christine!

As he moved away Raoul silently vowed to speak with Christine soon, to see what her frame of mind was. Then he would use that to plot Erik's demise. The Phantom of the Opera would fall now.

* * *

  


Christine hummed as she stepped into the sitting room, book in hand.. She heard Erik chuckle as he came from putting their coats away and a smile curved her lips as his hands rested on her hips, and he placed a delicate, loving kiss to her neck. Setting the book down, she turned in his arms and wound her own around him, gazing steadily into his eyes. 

Aside from their usual inexpressiveness, Erik's eyes often had a deep warmth to them, it was often like gazing into a furnace. But then, she also found softness there that could not be mocked by a feather pillow, and a love that often frightened her. She only hoped her eyes could tell him how she felt.

He smiled as she studied him and drew her close in a hug, savoring the foreign feel of her in his arms. Though her birthday and declaration of love had passed and it was now March, he still marveled that the beauty chose the beast. It fascinated him that she could find it in her heart to love him, and oh how beautiful this made her heart! He knew she didn't lie by the look in her eyes, a look of pleasure in a way, but also comfort, she was comfortable. He leaned down and kissed her fleetingly, surprising her when he pulled away so soon.

"Erik?" She asked, her eyes growing concerned.

He put a finger to his lips to motion for her silence, then cautiously crept over to the door, pressing his ear to it. The siren was singing, and he grimaced, looking at his wife. "Someone is here."

Her eyes widened and at his gentle urging she went into the other room. Erik took up his cloak and hat. Carefully, he went out a different entrance, watching the boat advance in the distance. He knew that stout figure all too well.

He watched the man climb from his boat and then slithered from his hiding place. This person knew to avoid the siren, and only the Phantom himself would be a threat to them. Erik stayed partially in the shadows, so that when looked upon, he was only a black, menacing shape, ready to strike at any given moment.

"Monsieur de Chagny, this is indeed a surprise." He said thickly.

Raoul glanced up and found himself glaring at his enemy. Though he could not see his face he was almost sure that Erik was grinning behind the shadow. Deciding to remain silent, Raoul just stared at him.

"If you don't mind, I would like to know why you are here, otherwise, I'm going to ask you to leave."

Raoul cleared hid throat. "I need to speak with Christine."

Erik was silent a moment. "My wife is busy right now."

Raoul nearly snapped at the comment but he calmed himself. "Please, it's important."

Erik eyed him, then nodded, stepping from the shadows. He led him to the door and let him in. Raoul nearly gasped as he entered Erik's home for the first time. Erik took his hat and coat, then led him to the parlor stiffly.

"Darling? It's all right. Someone's here for you."

Raoul glared to Erik's back, shaking his head. Christine came from the nearby hall. Raoul caught his breath, she looked well, her cheeks had color and her eyes were bright. They widened at the sight of him and she ran toward him, throwing her arms around him.

"Raoul! You were the last person I thought I'd see!" She pulled away, examining him. "How are you, Raoul?"

He couldn't help but smile. "All right, and yourself?"

She was glowing with glee. "I'm fine!"

Raoul looked over at Erik and Erik read his eyes. He sighed and touched his wife's arm. "Darling, I shall be in my study, if you need me."

She nodded, and when he left offered Raoul a seat. He accepted and sat rather stiffly. Christine sighed and sat next to him. "Raoul, I know this is awkward, but please try to be comfortable."

Raoul shook his head. "Let's get to the point Christine. How has this _marriage_ been so far?"

Confused she answered straightforwardly. "My marriage is fine, Raoul."

"It is healthy? For the both of you?"

Christine smiled and stood, moving to the fireplace. He could barely hear her whisper, _"The both of us"._

But he had heard it. "I presume you are mumbling about Erik?"

She suddenly realized where he was coming from, and only now he noticed how one hand came to rest on her abdomen. "Christine,"

She let it down and turned to him again, her face full of regret. "Raoul why are you doing this to yourself?"

He stood, stepping away just slightly. "Y-you're..."

Concern filled her. "Raoul, why are you so surprised? I am a married woman!"

"But it was _arranged!"_

She shook her head. "What does that matter? I love Erik, I always have."

His eyes were filled with tears and he continually stared into her eyes, his beseeching her for something she couldn't give him. "You were supposed to marry him and then leave him when you came of age. This wasn't, Christine you shouldn't be... Now you can never..."

She placed a hand over her eyes. "When will you understand? I am not being tied down! I want this! You're my friend and you should be _happy_ for me!"

"Friend... Happy." Raoul's eyes were filled with terror and betrayal. He ran from the house on the lake. "No Christine, I am _not_ your friend! I was not meant to be your _friend!_"

Upon hearing the door slam Erik rushed out, moving directly to his shaking wife. "Christine are you all right? What is wrong?" She looked into his eyes and he knew. "You told him."

"He figured it out."

"He didn't take it well." Erik shook his head, pulling her closer to him. "Do not let it trouble you, _ma petite_. I will protect you." He kissed her cheek, burying his face in her hair he whispered. "I will protect both of you."

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Well? Hope it didn't get to fluffy in that last sentence. 


	10. Chapter 10

_Love Knows No Limits Chapter Ten_

_At Last_ (Same night as previous chapter)

A/N. Drinking Cherry Coke, with absolutely nothing to do, what better time to write an LKNL chappie?

* * *

  


Erik watched silently as Christine finished cleaning dishes, her agile hands moved to a dish towel, and a soft hum came from her lips. She slid out of her apron and sighed, setting it on it's hook, then moving past him to the parlor to stir the fire. He watched her shoulders move as she did so, and when she turned back and looked at him, her eyes wide and her cheeks flushed, he could not help but smile drunkenly. 

She sighed again and shook her head. "I cannot see how you are so calm!"

He shrugged and stood, making his way to wrap her in his arms. "And I cannot see why you are so tense. Everything is all right Christine, what will he do?"

Her brow furrowed. "That's why I'm worried, you can never be sure."

Erik shook his head and laughed in amusement. "Darling, we've seen what the fop can accomplish, I am hardly worried, if he gets anything done it's because of his 'connections'." 

Christine pouted. "But Erik..."

"No more 'buts', I told you, I vowed to love and cherish you, and I will. Christine, I don't know about you, but I hardly think that the right environment to bring this child into is one of paranoia, guilt and no trust."

She hung her head. "No, it isn't. I'm sorry Erik."

He shook his head and brought her to his chest. "Tshhh, it is all right. I was merely stating a fact. Christine my love, this is more than a child, this is us. It's a symbol of how we are not only husband and wife, but friends, teachers, and students to one another. Perhaps it is not so much to you, but for me this is something I have wanted for so long, and at last, I can have it. This is the most precious gift you could ever give me."

She felt an odd pang of pity hammer through her core, and she nuzzled closer to him. "It's just as important to me, my love. I'm healing your wounds, and my own through this child which you have given me. I thought when I was with Raoul that I would never carry such special fruit in my womb, but I have, and it is all because you love me, at last I am anything but ordinary."

His emotion swelled to such a length at this that he gathered her to him and just wept into her hair for a very long time.

"Oh! That in my dreams you loved me as you say you do, and now I am awake and it is still so! Christine, Christine, Christine! You _are_ and angel sent from God to turn a poor, ugly man into a happy normal gentleman! Christine, Christine!"

And she wept against him, unable to speak, feeling his arms around her, hearing his praises, all thoughts of Raoul had passed, and now she had only to hold this man whom she was destined to love to a point where her love tore her apart. 

This man which had given her this precious new baby that invaded her thoughts and dreams now, this child, which would seal his lie and make him ready for the grave*! Oh to feel so strongly for one human and then feel another grow inside you, though the fetus did not yet move. A spirit of love and joy swelled within her only at the thought of motherhood, and though she was young she felt entirely ready for this new task.

Erik cleared his throat and parted from her, just slightly. He withdrew his handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his face, then offered it to her. She nodded her thanks and wiped away her own tears, sighing. Erik replaced the handkerchief in his breast pocket, then lead his wife to the Library Music Room. He sat at the piano and began to play, she listened intently, for this was a song she had not heard before.

_O lovely rose,_

_ Lovely rose._

_ Where does your beauty begin?_

_ Does it rise from the earth where your roots have grown;_

_ Does it fall from the sun whose light has shone_

_ Upon you, upon you_

_ O lovely rose,_

_ Lovely rose_

_ Where does your beauty begin?_

_When I first passed by you,_

_ Not a single flower stood._

_ No flower stood._

_ Just branches clothed in rugged thorns on rough,_

_ And bended wood._

_ But somewhere there must have been a tender bud or two._

_ Your promised beauty waiting there,_

_ Waiting there to bloom._

_ O lovely rose,_

_ Lovely rose._

_Where does your beauty begin?_

_ Does it rise from the earth where your roots have grown;_

_ Does it fall from the sun whose light has shone_

_ Upon you, upon you_

_ O lovely rose,_

_ Lovely rose_

_ Your beauty lives deep within._

_ O lovely rose,_

_ Lovely rose._

_ Your beauty lives... Deep within._

_ O lovely rose._

His voice faded off and she sighed, sitting next to him and wrapping her arms around him. "Must you spoil me?"__

He laughed very softly and kissed her forehead. "No, my rose. But I may certainly choose to, eh?"

She smiled and nodded. "I suppose so, for now."

* * *

  


__Hope it isn't too sappy, if it is, it's the Cherry Coke, man! O Lovely Rose is not written by moi, I need to go find the writer, I wrote that from memory.

  
  



	11. Chapter 11

_Eleven_

_The Truth Comes Out– Or Does It?_

* * *

  


Christine sat patiently outside Firmin and André's office, curious as to why they had called her here during the rehearsal, whatever it was, it had to be serious . . . VERY serious. Her hand against her cheek, her elbow of that hand on her knee she drummed her fingers against her flesh until the door opened. She shot up, sitting straight and poignant.

"All right Mademoiselle, come in."

Christine fought not to glare at Firmin, biting her lip but nearly spatting, "I am _married_, monsieur."

"Yes, yes of course. Come now, we haven't all day." He ushered her in and offered her a seat in front of their desk, which she graciously took.

"Let's come straight to the point, Madame." André said softly.

"You usually do." Christine joked, smiling playfully. The managers both smiled softly.

"There's been a source. They've told us something . . . Interesting . . . "

She felt fear flood her face but quickly replaced it with coldness. "Oh?"

"Madame," Firmin said uncomfortably, his face twisted in unsureness, his off to the side, back to her, then off and back again as he spoke. "We've gotten word that you're, well that you're pregnant."

Christine remained tight-lipped on the surface but inside she was bubbling with rage and fear. _Raoul, you rat!_

"If true, this poses a problem, as you can well imagine. We're having one of our best years ever, thanks to you, and if we send you out there, eventually, larger and obviously pregnant, well Madame, we'd lose money." André finished, anxiety overspreading his face.

"Messieurs," she said softly, smiling. "I can assure you this rumor isn't true." _Here with the lies_, she scolded herself. 

Both sighed with relief, faces un-wrinkling and eyes closing, smiles apparent. "We needed that Madame."

* * *

  


"Is it true?"

"Do you think?"

"No, she couldn't be!"

"She'd be fat!"

"She must be!"

Erik listened intently to the gossip of the ballet rats, a smile spread over his lips. _If they only KNEW._ Of course, the rumor must have gotten around from Raoul, but quite honestly he didn't care. Rumors and viscounts and opera houses didn't matter now. What mattered was what he had, and what he had was Christine.

He decided to go to his passage near the managers office to see why they had called his wife at all. As he slithered behind room after room, her voice became more clear, a right here then up two little steps. Here, this was it.

* * *

  


"And so we figured, M. De Chagny knows you well, he MUST be telling the truth Oh but he wasn't! And this is such a happy thing for us! He must have been joking."

"I see," she said softly. "Messrs., why would a pregnancy pose a problem? If I were, and I'm not saying I am pregnant, the child would not be born until Christmas, some time during our break!"

"You do have a point there," André froze. "I'm going to rephrase our previous question, is there _any chance_ that you _could_ be pregnant?"

She bit her lip. This could be helpful. "Well . . . y-yes . . . there could."

Firmin breathed deeply. "Well I'm sure we could work it out, go home Christine, thank you for coming and clearing this up."

She nodded and gathered her things, stepping out the door with an air of dignity. _This way, I can discuss this with Erik before making any announcements._

She sighed, after having turned to go to her dressing room when her husband's voice startled her. 'The wall Christine, no, no, turn left.'

She did so with a giggle her hand pressing the cool plaster. She jumped as a panel opened and she was pulled in, but laughter took place of her fear, and as he held her, she could almost see him smiling at her, even though it was impossible to see anything.

"You're all right?" He asked softly.

"Yes, yes I'm fine."

His lips pressed her temple. "Why did you lie?"

"Well," she calmed. "I wasn't sure what you wanted, I mean, if you hadn't wanted anyone to know about the baby. So I figured if you don't mind then it's yes and if you do it's no."

He smiled softly. _OUR baby._ "We can discuss it at home. Come, I don't want you to freeze." And so he guided her to their home.

* * *

  


Meh, ideas are running out. Have any? Lemme know!


	12. Chapter 12 IM BACK

_Twelve_

_Raoul's Departure_

* * *

"Philippe, please, you _have_ to help me!"

The comte shook his head at his younger brother. "No Raoul, I don't have to do anything. I'm not going to aid you in ripping a young, pregnant woman from her husband."

"That is _twice her age and raving mad!"_ Raoul cried, perspiration filming his forehead.

Philippe shrugged. "It's not our business, there are a lot of women in Paris, Raoul, some better than Christine Daaé." with that he left the room, stiff shouldered and angry.

Raoul shook his head and followed. "I love her, brother! Perhaps you don't understand that feeling!"

"Quite the contrary, but I also know that messing with a married woman is... Dangerous. Just give it up, Raoul. You haven't got a chance, especially with them having a child. There are lots of nice opera girls, and I may recommend a ballet rat, but please, for your sake, stay away from Christine."

"Dammit! Hear me out!"

"I have! And I am sick of you wallowing in self pity! For God's sake if she wanted you I'm sure she would have let you know! You are the Vicomte de Chagny, high class, many women would pay just to be with you! Why do you shove them to your feet and go so low as to stalk a married woman! My dear brother whom I love please listen to me for once, if never again!"

Overwhelmed Raoul was silent, and a warm tear slipped from his cheek. He turned away from Philippe's furious face and staggered up the stairs. Once in his room, he went to his desk and picked up his pen, pressed it to the paper supplied and poured his heart out.

* * *

_My dear Christine,_

_ I am writing to inform you I have given up, on you, on Paris, my family. I am nothing without you and I realize there is no chance of you leaving Erik now that your child is on the way, so I wish you and your family the best of luck._

_ As for me, I plan to go somewhere far from here, perhaps Hungary or Portrugal, somewhere I wont see your pretty face laughing to another man's joke. I am deeply sorry if you feel hurt or guilty over this, it is more my fault than yours. _

_ Just remember my Little Lotte, I love you and perhaps one day I can face up to being your friend._

_ Take care of yourself, especially now._

_ Love forever_

_ Raoul de Chagny._

Christine stared at his short letter, her face red with embarrassment and her heartbeat quickened. Her free hand rested on her bulk, but soon moved to her fan, which helped cool her face. Raoul had left, he had given up hope? This was very much unlike her friend, but she wasn't one to fight with a letter. Writing frees the soul...

She set it down and sighed, sitting and beginning a reply.

__

__

Raoul,

_ I must admit, I was upset by your letter, it is very unlike you. I don't know if you'll be there to receive this, but I also know someone will be there that knows where you are. And I hope that someone will be so kind as to forward this to you._

_ Please accept my apologies for hurting you at all, my romance with Erik was quite unexpected, and to be truthful, sometimes I am still not sure how I feel about him. I know that I indeed do love him, and deeply, but I still don't know just how deeply, and this child frightens me all the more._

_ Oh God please don't use my letter against him either, I've always been able to trust you and hope that now it will be no different. I do love you Raoul, and hope one day you will be able to be my friend again, and I will not rush you to that. _

_ You need not apologize for anything, just take care of yourself, and come back safe to tell me how your trip went. I am all ears and eager._

_ With love_

_ Christine_

She sighed and folded it up, postmarked it, and immediately took it upstairs to the mailbox outside the opera where it could be delivered first thing tomorrow, she then returned to her home to await her husband's return from his errands.

* * *

Meh, I owe you guys a lot. It is late and short but I really could not help it. My health has been declining and work is killing me.

Please review though.

CD


	13. Chapter 13

_Thirteen_

_Little Dream_

* * *

_A ripening, blossoming orchard. The scent of apple blossoms fill the air as Christine moves through the tall grass, her hair casually strewn across her shoulders and back, and she was thin again. She gazed curiously at the way the grass moved ahead of her and gasped as a small child ran past. They were so fast that she couldn't tell if it was a boy or girl, and so she was sure it was hers and Erik's child._

_ She followed it, taking in the fragrance, feeling the itchy grass against her legs and suddenly she was on a boat. A yacht if you will. The wind blew through her hair, which was neatly wrapped up by a hat with a sash like fabric coming down the sides._

_ She looked around and smiled as she noticed her husband by the railing, his arms crossed behind his back, facing the water. She moved closer and laid a hand on his shoulder, "Erik?" she called. "Are you all right?"_

_ He turned to her and she gasped, caught off guard to see that the man was Raoul._

Christine woke with a jolt, and it took her a couple of minutes to recognize the sound coming from down the hall. She stood and smiled, draped herself in her robe and went to the library music room_, _smiled as she saw Erik at the piano. He didn't look up before he spoke, as he often didn't need to. "Bad dream?"

She shrugged and sat by him. "Yes, I suppose I'm worked up a bit. The baby could come any day and well," she blushed and lowered her gaze. "I'm frightened."

He looked up to her but didn't stop playing, rather the song shifted into something more light. "Oh but that is natural my love, it is your first baby!"

She smiled and slid her fingers onto his. "_Non mon chou, _OUR first baby."

He chuckled. "In that case I do admit being a bit scared myself, but I am sure it will pass, I'm more excited than scared."

She sighed as he stopped playing and leaned her head against his shoulder. "_Moi aussi_, but I still am not sure if I can do this, Erik. Be a mother, I am but a child myself."

He smiled. "Everyone is a child until they have their own, children truly raise their parents, and then are raised by their children."

She laughed. "Always the one to be sensible yet humorous."

He kissed her forehead. "Always the one to panic."

She grinned wickedly and gazed up into his eyes innocently. _"_But of course, _j'adore! Et toi, Erik?"_

"Me? No, I don't love panicking," He smiled as she playfully glared at him. "I do love you though."

Her playfulness melted away and she sighed, burying herself further into his arms. "I love you too."

As he held her his eyes were distant, and finally he looked at her sweet, bulging form and asked, "Christine, have you.. Ever imagined choosing differently?"

She paused a moment, collecting her answer, then whispered. "I've imagined the outcome but it is almost impossible to imagine my life without you."

He smiled. "What did you dream?"

She was silent momentarily. "I was in a field, it seemed like a farm, and our baby ran past me, I tried to follow it, but it was too quick and suddenly I was on a ship. I thought I saw you standing, but when I spoke, you turned around and... And you were Raoul!"

He smiled softly. "You miss him."

"I'm worried for him."

Erik took a steady breath. "Darling, you of all people know I no longer hold any grudges against M. Le Vicomte, but I really don't think it is wise you let your worries for him and your pregnancy mingle, perhaps your dream was warning you. Please my dear, I don't think Raoul would want you to worry about him to the point of you endangering your health either."

She sighed. "You're probably right, as usual. _Mais c'est difficile,_ I don't want him to beat himself up too badly."

He squeezed her hand. "I think you too will find that Raoul is much stronger than he appears."

She sighed again, more softly than the previous. "I do hope you're right Erik, I do hope so."

* * *

_(Piano Interlude)_

_What is this dream I see?_

_Why does it seem so real to me?_

_What if this dream turns out to be,_

_more than a dream?_

_(Piano)_

_Come little dream and play, don't be afraid _

_Don't fade away_

_Quick little dream before you're gone_

_Let's get it done_

_(Some piano then fade into strings, winds and brasses)_

Christine sighed and set her pen down, shoving the music aside. Since her time with Erik had begun, she often found herself writing little songs that she abandoned just as often. But this one she wanted to keep short and sweet, and she had. Little Dream was just over 3 minutes long, which was hardly the intro of many of Erik's songs.

She chuckled to herself and sighed, resting her hand on her bulk, feeling her child move a bit under her palm, she smiled. She often of late pictured life after this baby's birth, just her, Erik and the baby, growing up slowly and eventually Raoul coming back and being a bit of an Uncle to the child.

Suddenly the baby stilled, so suddenly that she blinked and gazed at herself...

And then there was the pain.

__

__


	14. Chapter 14

_Chapter 14_

_Black Lining of the White Cloud_

_A/N: I'm going to warn all of you now, that what happens in this chapter, is going to take you totally by surprise, and I really hope you like it. A lot of my reviewers have gotten impatient and haven't reviewed this story in some time, and I would recommend you do this time if you want to see this story continued, I'm serious, I won't waste my time on it if I feel I don't have to._

* * *

Erik paced frantically back and forth outside of the room in Mme Giry's little cottage, his hands behind his back, his visible brow furrowed and glazed with sweat. He cringed slightly and looked at the door as Christine let out a blood curdling scream, and he felt an odd, jelly like feeling in his shoulders, causing them to droop from their usual prideful height, she'd been in there too long...

The door opened and Mme slipped out, just quickly enough so that he couldn't glimpse his hysterical wife, and she moved past him. He caught her arm and his pained eyes met her emotionless ones. "Tell me, is it as bad as my gut has warned me?"

She kept her lips pursed to hide the frown she wanted to release and finally she bent her head, then gazed at him. "Erik, Christine, you must understand, is young, and very small and weak. The doctor has every confidence the baby will be fine tho."

He fought solidly to keep his lower lip from quivering. "But Christine, he doesn't think she will make it?"

"Erik they are doing their best...."

_"That isn't good enough!"_ He cried out. "Dammit Virginie, that is my _wife_ in their and I will not be held aside as she is quite possibly dying, _let me in!"_

Her eyes full of compassion and sadness she shrugged towards the door weakly and continued her quest for ice. He slowly moved to it and opened it, slipped in, feeling his heart twist in agony as he beheld her form, bent slightly, moaning in pain, covered in sweat. He moved quietly to her, ignoring the nurses and doctor's stares. She looked up and sobbed. "Erik, I'm so frightened!"

He shook his head and sat near her, took her hand. "Do not be frightened my dear, it will be fine."

"No! Erik don't do that, don't go into denial and try and use it on me! I might die! I might hardly get to see my baby and I might leave you!"

"Monsieur, if you can please keep her calm, she's only wasting precious energy." The snobby doctor growled, looking up at Erik from Christine's open legs. "All right Mme, push!"

She tried desperately but collapsed. "I can't do it!"

"Please Mme, just one more!"

With all her might, Christine gave a push, screaming in pain, squeezing her husband's hand and feeling her energy slip from her. She heard a scream and looked up to see her bloodied daughter in the doctor's hands and with what strength she had she brought Erik down and kissed him. He smiled at her just as Mme Giry entered and he moved to the child. Christine's heavy eyes met the old woman, then her husband whose smile faded and he rushed to her, then the doctor who rolled his eyes and threw his hands into the air.

And as she uttered words of love, Christine Daaé took her last breath and went into a deep sleep.

* * *

"I love you, Erik."

Erik felt panic rise as her eyes fell shut, and moved quickly to her as a nurse cleaned their screaming daughter. "Christine?" He gently shook her arm only to see she didn't respond. "Christine? Darling, look at me!" No response again.

Tears flooded his eyes and his throat became tight. "Christine wake up."

The doctor rolled his eyes. "She's dead man, get over it and get me some water!"

Erik looked over at the tired, arrogant man and then at Mme Giry, whose eyes also flooded with tears as she looked at the young woman lying there. Erik let his wife's small, pale hand slip from his and he began to approach the man, at this Giry's eyes widened and she ushered the man out. "Go, monsieur, you're service is no longer needed."

She returned minutes later to find Erik with his face buried in Christine's hair, sitting on the bed with her in his arms. She listened to him sob quietly and then took some instruction from a nurse who left, along with the other two nurses. She looked at the motherless child lying in the small bassinet by the bed, then moved to Erik.

"It will do you no good, my friend, to mourn her forever, when you now have a child to take care of."

Erik calmed slightly but growled from behind his wife's lifeless form. "Do away with the child, I don't care, I can't take care of her without Christine."

Giry opened her mouth to speak, but then grinned slyly. "Very well, if you feel that is what Christine would have wanted you to do." She moved silently to the baby and lifted her, then made her way very slowly to the door. Silently she counted in her head. Three... Two...

"Wait." His tear broken voice whimpered. "You win."

Giry sighed and moved slowly to him, child in arms. "Erik you know Meg and I will help you out as best we can, please, I know this hurts I loved her too but please, for your little girl's sake, don't let it get to you like that."

He looked up at her and reached out his arms, motioning with his fingers for her to hand him the baby. She did so, and watched a moment until he finally spoke. "May we all have a moment, Virginie?"

"Of course, ami, of course." She left and closed the door and Erik looked back down to the tiny bundle that was his daughter. He gazed at Christine and sighed. "I'm sorry I spoke so, my little one. I loved your maman very much, no, I love her very much. Oh and she loves you." He smiled softly. "I will take good care of you, I promise. Don't you worry about a thing, you are safe with your papa, and do you know why?" He paused, then kissed her forehead. "Because he loves you."

And so he stood and moved to take the child from there, not daring to look back at Christine, beginning his fresh start from that moment on. But still, he could hear her voice echo in his mind, a song long forgotten but kept in memory, perhaps for this moment.

_Think of me_

_Think of me fondly when we've said goodbye_

_Remember me_

_Once in a while_

_please promise me you'll try_

_When you find that once again you long_

_To take your heart back and be free_

_If you ever find a moment_

_Spare a thought on me._

_We never said our love was evergreen, or as unchanging as the sea_

_But if you can still remember_

_Stop and think of me._

_Think of all the things we've shared and seen_

_Don't think about the things that might have been_

_Think of me_

_Think of me waking silent and resigned_

_Imagine me_

_Trying too hard to put you from my mind_

_Recall those things look back on all those times_

_Think of the things we'll never do_

_There will never be a day when I won't think of you._

He gazed at the mantle much later that night, he was staying with the Giry's until the baby was older, and Christine had been taken by the undertaker a bit ago, he found himself taking Raoul's part of the song and making it his own. "Can it be? My little Christine? What a change you're really just the piece of my memory I won't loose,you may not be here with me, but I am there with you."

_We never said our love was evergreen _

_Or as unchanging as the sea_

_but please promise me that sometimes_

_You will think of me!_

Tears in his ever tired eyes, he buried his face in his hand and murmured ever so softly. "I promise, Christine. I promise."

* * *

__Raoul entered his apartment with a sigh two weeks later, it was a busy hour in Budapest, and he had just made it home before it would get worse. "Rush hour." He scoffed and moved to his table, deciding to finally get to the mail he had ignored a week.

A bill, a bill, another bill, a letter from his manservant? Intriguing.He carefully opened it and read what he recognized as Erik's handwriting.

_Fondest greetings, _

_ Though my letter wishes you well it bears bad news. Christine gave birth three days ago, and it kills me to tell you that she passed away just moments after the birth. I cannot comfort you, tell you she died in peace, without pain. But I was with her, she was not alone._

_ She had been worried over you in the week leading to our daughter, Elodie's birth. I am not saying it was your fault, merely pointing out that se had not forgotten you, and she never would have. I want you to know you are always welcome here, I could use the company, it won't be easy for me to raise Elodie by myself at my age, but it's what Christine wanted._

_ Do take care of yourself friend_

_ Erik_

And as he read it over and over, Raoul felt pain beyond belief rip through him and he faced the heavens and gaze an agonized, "_Christine!"_ Before collapsing to the ground in tears. What Erik must be going through! Oh God Little Lotte, not her, not Christine! His one true friend was dead, and he had been too selfish to be there with her! What must her pain have been like? What must this child and man live through? All because of him!__


	15. Chapter 15

_Fears and Resolutions_

_(The time used in this chapter is Official Time, l'heure officielle)_

* * *

_Paris, five years later_

The sun rose in measured beams, it cut through the thick clouds and blanketed the soft, dewy earth beneath, and the chilly air warmed just slightly. Ten minutes after it had fully risen shops began to open and the city grew alive with bustling crowds that were up to buy the day's smallest meal, _le petit dèjeuner_. The bakery's were crammed, as in Paris breakfast usually consisted of croissants, or some other breads, _du pain_, as they called it, butter, _du beurre_ and jelly, _de la confiture_.

As the people waited eagerly in line Raoul de Chagny hurried off, his own groceries tucked away as he had been up early to buy for this morning, Elodie's fifth birthday. Her father, Erik, was ill this week, and had asked him to go out and he had gladly done so, delighting in the normality that he had so rarely experienced. Erik was growing old, and a horrible flu had taken him, and though he denied it, the doctor's didn't think he had more than another year to live. So Raoul had tried to ready himself for the responsibility of being Elodie's only parent, should her father die any time soon, which he prayed God he wouldn't.

He made it inside and took the things to the kitchen to be prepared, then made to start a fire in the parlor. Shortly after the cook brought out the tray with things ready to be eaten, along with coffee and juice, even some tea. He nodded his thanks and looked at his pocket watch, saw that it was about time to wake the sleeping beauty and her father to come and eat.

He hurried up the stairs to Erik's room first, knocked and poked his head in. "Erik? I'm going to be waking Elodie, are you well enough to go downstairs?"

Erik sighed and nodded from the bed. "Yes, I think so, I'll be down shortly." Raoul closed the door and went down the hall to the white, obviously feminine door. He opened it slowly and smiled down at the little girl, asleep in her bed, nearly drowned in the white sheets and huge pillows. Her dark, thick, long curls were splayed all around her little head, and a pale, chubby arm rested in the thick, brown silkiness. He gently leaned down and kissed her forehead, whispered to her.

"Elodie, c'est à dix huit heures, tu va pour le petit dèjeuner?" _Elodie, it's six o clock, are you coming for breakfast?_

She groaned slightly and rolled over. "Mais, mon père Raoul, je suis fatiguèe!" _But Raoul, my father, I'm sleepy!_

"Ah," he chuckled. "You should have thought of that when you went to bed. Hurry now, vais vien!" _Come along with me._

She groaned again and rolled out of bed, with such a lack of grace it made Raoul laugh out loud. "I'll be downstairs with your papa, come to the parlor."

He made his way down, surprised to find Erik already there, spreading some jelly onto his croissant, Raoul smiled as he entered the room. "You look much better."

Erik looked at him, adjusted his mask and smiled. "I feel much better, thank you. Is she coming?"

"Yes, but I practically had to drag her out of bed."

Erik laughed. "Well, she did want to stay up to visit with Mme Giry more. I'm not surprised she is tired." He shook his head. "She has her mother's spirit."

Raoul smiled lightly. "She reminds me so much of Christine, I would not be surprised if she is Christine trapped in a little body."

"Papa! You're up!"

Erik smiled and welcomed his daughter into his arms. "Oui, mon angè, I am feeling much better this morning." She turned her in his lap so she faced Raoul, and she rested her cheek in his chest. "Did you sleep well, little one?"

"Yes, very much so," she yawned. "But I wouldn't mind a late morning."

Erik laughed and Raoul ushered her to a seat. "Now, my flower, we have planned a special surprise for you." He said with a wink. "But you must close your eyes to get it."

Elodie frowned deeply. "But father!"

"No 'buts' unless you don't want it." Raoul said gently, and she huffed and closed her little green eyes. Raoul signaled for the cook to come in with the special silver tray, which she set before the girl at the table. "All right, you may open them."

Elodie complied and gasped, grinning at the two with delight. "A present! An _early_ present?"

Erik smiled and nodded. "Oui, cherie. You can open just this one before your friends come later. Go on then, let's see it."

She carefully removed the bow and opened the lid, slid her small hands into the tissue paper and lifted out a fragile, wooden frame, that Erik had painted and signed. In it was a photograph of a young woman, bright, wide eyes, high cheeks and a mass of curls around her, even though the picture was in black and white she could tell the curls were dark, curiously she looked to Erik. "Who is she?"

Sadly he motioned to it. "That's your maman, Christine. It was taken two or three years before you were born, just after we were married."

Elodie gently ran a hand over the picture. "My maman," she whispered, she looked to the men and smiled. "Thank you very much."

"You're welcome, sweetness, come, let's eat." Raoul said softly, choking back tears. Erik remained stone faced on the side where his mask couldn't hide his face.

* * *

That evening, after everyone went home and the house had been cleaned up Elodie went to sit with her Papa and Father, curious to know more about her mother. "What was she like, generally?"

Raoul smiled. "I think the best way to tell you about her would be from both our experiences, after all, we each knew a different Christine."

Erik nodded and brought her into his lap. "Yes, that is just as well, you may begin."

"Well," he sat by the fire and looked into the flames. "I met your mother when I was 14 years old, she had a scarf her papa gave her, and the day was windy. In fact it was so windy it blew the scarf right away from her and into the sea, I, seeing this, ran after it, into the frigid water and brought it back to her. We played every day that summer until I had to leave those parts. Then, some years ago, I saw your mother perform in an opera, Hannibal, was it? Yes, I believe so. I went to see her and we talked for some time afterwards. Elodie dear I was in love with your maman, but she loved your Papa, her Angel of Music. In the end love, and law brought them together."

"Did she love you though?"

"Oh yes for a time in a way, we were engaged for a short while, but she realized she loved me as a friend."

Elodie looked to Erik. "And what about you?"

_How could he tell her? This innocent little girl that he had manipulated Christine in order to be with her?_

"Elodie, I . . ."

"Your mother thought I was her Angel of Music, I tricked her you see. And so we would go down beneath the opera house and I would give her singing lessons. Oh what days those were! She had such a beautiful voice and she was so gentle, and kind! She treated me like I was normal, until she found out. She was very upset with me and went to Raoul, but she eventually understood my actions, knew how much I loved her and I think that's when she started to TRULY love me. We got married and two years later, we found out we were going to have you. Oh, your mother was so excited! She so desperately wanted you, and to be a good mother to you. But she was small and weak my love, and she passed away a few minutes after you were born." He smiled softly and kissed her forehead. "Oh but she loves you, I feel it myself it is so strong."

"Papa, is Maman the Anel of Music now?"

Slightly startled by the question Erik opened his mouth but couldn't find words momentarily. "We-, uh, oh. Yes I imagine so Elodie."

She yawned and stretched. "Well, I'm going to bed now before I pull another all nighter. Good night!" She kissed his cheek, then Raoul's and hurried upstairs to find her nanny.

Raoul turned to Erik. "You did not tell her that it as an arranged marriage?"

Erik sighed. "Elodie is indeed very smart for her age, very well spoken. But I want to save the law for when she is older none-the-less."

Raoul nodded. "I think that is wise also. Shall you need help to your room?"

"I shan't, thank you. I think I'll stay here for a bit. You go on up."

"Good night Erik."

"Good night Raoul." Raoul too hurried upstairs, leaving Erik in the parlor. He gently reached down and picked up the picture of his deceased wife and ran his fingertips over her face. "Oh, Christine! If only you could know how much I miss you, how much I still love you! Soon my darling, let me ready Raoul for his task as Elodie's father, then we shall be together again."

And so, he got up with a fight and turned out the light, then he carefully went up the long, white stairs, holding the picture close as if it were Christine herself. He knocked on his daughter's door, and was pleased to see her already asleep in her bed. Erik carefully moved to the dressing table, salvaged from the opera that had once belonged to her mother, and set the picture there. He then went to retire to his own room. The image of his sleeping daughter played over in his mind, reminding him of Christine and Raoul's song.

_Little Lotte, let her mind wander_

_Little Lotte thought, 'Am I fonder of dolls?_

_Or of goblins of shoes, of riddles of frocks?_

_Or of chocolates?'_

_'No what I love best,'_

_Lotte said,_

_'Is when I'm asleep in my bed,_

_And the Angel of Music sings songs in my head_

_The Angel of Music sings songs in my head.'_

And so Erik fell asleep, images of his dead wife running through his own mind, the roof of the opera with Raoul, then becoming his bride, telling him she was pregnant and then dying right after little Elodie was born.

* * *

Much thanks to Phantom Aria for the wonderful idea, one or two more chapters and then, I already have a sequel planned. Review please


	16. Chapter 16

_16_

_A Shelter And A Light_

_(The version of All I Ask of You found here is from the original lyrics to the song, found in piano books and on some recorded versions)_

* * *

To the amazement of everyone Erik regained his health for another 12 years before it declined again, only slightly. Though he tried to hide it, this was going to be his end, God was calling for him, it was time to let go, and to say the final farewell to his seventeen year old daughter, a spitting image of her mother.

Raoul had loosened from the idea of raising Elodie, she would turn 18 next year, and Erik had been so strong until now, he was in his mid seventies, and no one, not even Erik saw hope for his survival before the end of the month. Perhaps her would have to keep her in his care for a year . . . Until she had to marry. He was 37 now, a year above the age of taking a bride of 18, but he had been so wrapped up in raising the girl, keeping all the gentlemen away that he hadn't even thought to petition form a bride.

Poor Elodie was taking her father's illness worst of anyone, she often spent her afternoon's in his room, holding his hand, stroking it gently as he slept, a rustle from his chest whenever he breathed caused by his bronchitis always stirred something in her heart. She had already lost her mother, and now her father was going too. Neither of her parents would be present for her wedding next year. At least not physically.

One particular morning Erik woke with her at his side and smiled at her, whispered to her. "Christine . . ."

Elodie smiled. "No, Papa. It's me, Elodie. Don't you know me?"

"My daughter, my beautiful daughter . . ." He whispered, wheezing slightly. "Elodie, when I, when I die . . . You will spend the rest of the year with Raoul and I want you to promise your poor old Papa . . ."

She suppressed tears as she spoke. "Of course, what is it?"

"I want you to promise me that you . . . Will give your husband a chance when you marry, even if you do not love him at first. You may learn to love him, no matter what a beast he is." He coughed and worried she felt his visible forehead.

"Oh Papa, you're burning up, here." She gently lifted away his mask and as his flesh was revealed caught her breath. Never before had he revealed his face to her, and though she had known he was deformed the face beneath caused her heart to beat wildly. He looked at her, with her hand to her mouth and her wide eyes, her other hand still above him with the mask on and he panicked.

"Elodie! What have you done? What!? You foolish girl! Foolish girl is this what you wanted to see?"

Terrified of this side of him she dropped the mask and fled the room, tears pouring down her face, she heard the porcelain facade hit the floor and shatter as she made her way down the hall. "Raoul, Raoul!"

He appeared from his study, concerned and upon seeing her he grabbed her arms. "Elodie! Has your father? . . ."

"No, go inside the room, please!"

"But I have com . . ."

She grabbed his hand and hauled him to the roof of his home, accessible through a door and ladder. She sat down and clutched her knees, he soon followed.

"Why have you brought us here?"

"Don't take me back there."

"We must return."

"He'll kill me!" She rocked back and forth.

"Be still now!" He clutched her to him, hugged her weeping form. "Elodie . . . What is wrong? Who will kill you?"

Gasping she managed. "His eyes will find me there, those eyes that burn."

"Elodie don't say that! Don't even think it!"

She looked at him, then turned away. "My God who is this man? This mask of death! I can't escape from him, I never will."

"Whose is this voice you hear, with every breath?"

Combined they both whispered. "And in this labyrinth where night is blind . . ."

He gazed at her, remembering this exact confrontation with her mother on the roof of the opera. "Elodie, what happened?"

"Darkness . . . The . . ." The words came from her, a memory from a fable the other children at school knew, a memory of her father's words. "The Phantom of the Opera."

Raoul nearly laughed. "There is no Phantom of the Opera."

She tried to dry her tears which continued to come and her voice changed to song, the clear soprano almost exactly like her mother's, chilling his blood. "Raoul, I've been there, to his world of unending night, to a world where the daylight dissolves into darkness, darkness. Raoul I've seen him! Can I ever forget that sight? Can I ever escape from that face so distorted deformed, it was hardly a face and the darkness . . . Darkness."

"Elodie, love, you knew about his face."

"Yes but it was just so, and he became angry with me and he looked . . . Sad, and angry and so many . . . Things and . . ." She shook her head. "How could his voice be that way when he looks that way? But his voice filled my spirit, with a strange sweet sound, in that night there was music in my mind. And through music my soul it starts to soar." Raoul eased at the beauty of this note. "And I heard, as I've never heard before."

"What you heard, is so real, by why the horror?"

Tearfully she gazed at him. "And in his eyes, all the sadness of the world. Those pleading eyes, that both threaten and adore."

"Elodie, Elodie."

"_Elodie_."

She gazed at Raoul quickly. "What was that?"

He gazed at her and looked around. "No one." She shyly averted his gaze and softly he reached to brush a curl from her cheek, and the moment his fingers made contact with her flesh her froze, closed his eyes and sighed. "Elodie, you musn't be afraid of Erik, especially not now that he's so ill."

"I can't, I won't live like he did, not in the dark." She was shivering as his entire hand cupped her creamy cheek and he opened his eyes, began to sing what he had sung to her mother. "No more talk of darkness, forget these wide eyed fears I'm here; nothing will harm you, my words will warm and calm you. Let me be your freedom, let daylight dry your tears I'm here; with you beside you, to guard you and to guide you."

"All I ask is ev'ry waking moment, turn my head with talk of summertime. Say you need me with you now and always, promise me that all you say is true. That's all I ask of you."

"Let me be your shelter, let me be your light; you're safe, no one will 'find' you, your fears are far behind you."

"All I want is freedom, a world with no more night and you always beside me, to gold me and to hide me."

"Then say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime. Let me lead you from your solitude. Say you need me with you here beside you. Anywhere you go let me go too, Elodie, that's all I ask of you."

They gazed into each others eyes and Raoul leaned in and kissed her. From his hiding place, a nearly deathly ill Erik crawled away to his bed to weep, Raoul de Changy had done it again.

* * *

One more chapter, Review please! 


	17. Finale

_Promises_

_Chapter 17_

* * *

Frozen in place, Elodie opened her eyes, glanced at Raoul. "Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime. Say the word and I will follow you."

Raoul stroked her cheek gently. "Share each day with me, each night, each morning."

Quivering she continued. "Say you love me . . ."

"You know I do," caught up both enthusiastically sang. "Love me, that's all I ask of you."

Looking around quickly Elodie regained her composure, wiped her tears away. "I must go, they'll wonder where we are, au revoir Raoul."

Joy prevalent in his face he belted. "Elodie, I love you."

She hurried off the roof and he soon did the same, went back to his office and apologized to the men. Meanwhile Elodie went into her room and cleaned her face, then went slowly to her father's room. She looked at him in the bed, his face was in the pillow, his breathing was ragged and quick.

"Oh, Papa." She whispered softly, then hurried to his side and turned him over, revealing his tear stained face. "Papa I'm sorry for what happened, you gave me a fright, that was all."

He took a steady, pain filled breath and silently reached for his mask. She bent and handed it to him carefully, squeezing his hand as he took it. Quickly he replaced it, then he gathered enough of himself to speak to her. "You would do this to your father? Hurt him this way while he is in his death bed?"

She felt shame fill her face but also curiosity. "Papa, I said I was sorry . . ."

"That is not what I speak of." Erik firmly told her. "I tell you that I saw your little act on the roof and do you know what Ellie? It disgusted me! Raoul is your second father!"

"He is not by any means related to me! How dare you eavesdrop on me and how dare you put yourself in that position when you're so ill! I can't . . ."

He cut her off harshly. "How dare you defile my name this way! Do you know what people would say if the two of you were to marry? He raised you! To the public he is the kind man that took you and me in when your mother died! Do you know what _she_ would say if she knew!"

"She does know! And from what you've told me she'd be happy for me Papa! Mother believed in being with the one you love, did your marriage teach you nothing about her?"

Horrified at her words and her audacity he turned in the bed. "Leave me, I do not want you present when I die, you are the least of my concerns now."

Pain ripped through her at his sad, soft words. "What would you have me do in order to be a concern to you? I would not lose you that way Papa . . ."

"I have your love also?"

"Oh Papa of course!"

"Then you will forget Raoul de Chagny, marry a more suitable man, someone you can grow to love. Do you think your mother was happy at the beginning of our marriage?"

She bowed her head, sniffled as she fought back tears, then looked at him courageously. "I . . . I will do as you ask father."

Stunned, to say the least but at peace he smiled softly, reached out and took her hand. "I'm sorry I was upset with you."

"It's all right," she sighed and sat by him. "These things will happen, no? How do you feel?"

"Weak," he said honestly. "I think following you did it."

Her terrified, wide green eyes met his. "How . . . How long do you think you have?"

He coughed roughly and only after regaini9ng his composure replied. "Not more than an hour, my sweet one."

Tears welled in her eyes as she truly realized that this was it, she would lose her father in a short while. One flowed down her cheek and catching sight of it Erik felt his heart turn in pity. "Oh my dear love do not cry, my death is not in vain, I have been ill since your Maman died, I have longed to be with her so long and now my pain will end. But I am not leaving you completely, only in body, you are my daughter, my only daughter and that is more than what I could ask for, I will guide you forever."

"Promise?" She choked out with a sly, weary smile.

He reached up and traced the tip of his finger over her cheekbone. "I swear it."

* * *

Erik died around 40 minutes later, peacefully, as if going to sleep. After he hadn't moved a few moments Elodie, caught up in emotion buried her head in his unmoving chest and began to sob loudly, drawing attention, and the maid went to call on the undertaker and make plans for his burial, they had agreed not to have a service much earlier, he would be buried in the plot alongside his wife.

Grief-stricken the young woman made it a point to avoid Raoul as best as she could the next few days, and thinking she just wanted time to herself Raoul went along with it.

Even the next year, a week before her 18th birthday he did not think she was ignoring him, and was silent as he brought her the single letter she had received, unaware of the stamp on the top, that he should have been all too familiar with.

Curious, she carefully slid it open and pulled out the fancy, scented sheet of paper.

_Miss d'Amiens,_

_ This letter is to inform you that we have received a petition for you to wed! Congratulations! The holder of it is M. Michel Baroneaux. M. Has asked for your hand before anyone else, therefore we are pleased to inform you that the two of you shall wed next month, on the 21st. If you have any questions or concerns, please address them to me._

_ Anatole Buatois, Chief Marital Marshall._

* * *

Mwa ha ha! Cliff hanger, how will you know what will happen?

_Shattered_ holds the answer (Coming Soon Bientôt)


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